A Funny Thing Happened

I am pretty fast and loose with the word "love". I am aware of this. I am not one of those people who uses the word with some kind of reverence. It's not some great mystery of the universe. You either love or you don't love. Pretty simple.

I have been blindsided by my feelings for my Bulldogge. For real. It's sick! I feel like I am 16 and finding out what the wild world of adult feelings are like for the first time. I'm happy and smile all the damn time. What's with that?? I am losing my snarky edge and showing my soft furry underbelly. It doesn't even bother me. Odd.

I'm not holding anything back from this man. There is not even a moment's hesitation if I want to tell him something deeply personal. I WANT him to know all that stuff. And in a weird twist of fate, our freak flags match!!

So yes, boys, girls, lovers, haters, and pelicans: the Fat Girl has found a winner! A guy who is tough, smart, funny, fucking sexy, and loving all rolled into one! I trust him with all my heart. I dream about holding Irish Bulldogge's hand next to a fire when we are little old people. Sappy and sick for me, I am aware, but true.

What will I write about now that I have found a slice of happiness? How will it feel to not feel confused and unlovable? Will my insecurities ruin it all? Am I going to be one of those irritatingly happy people on Facebook forever?

Okay, so life still isn't perfect. But it feels outstanding, even with a raging fever and chills tonight. Good God, why did it take me so long to hit on IB on Facebook??

I Got Me a New Bulldogge

I haven't written much about him, but I seriously like my new Irish Bulldogge.

Why do I call him Irish Bulldogge? The name IS who he is. The first time we met after a lot of years we went to the gym together and the moment I laid eyes on him I thought two things, "This man is going change everything" and "Irish Bullgogge, he will be the Irish Bulldogge". Its in the way he moves and carries himself. It is in his goof ball personality and his rough edges. It is in his shape, his eyes, and his ginger Foo Manchu. I dig his directness, his honesty, and his innocence.

Damn he turns me into an idiot. I am never quite sure what to say to him because it's like I lose all my swagger when I am in the same room as him. I swear the Bulldogge drops my IQ about 50 points when I'm with him. So he does a lot of the talking and I laugh a lot, smile, and try not to be too big of a bonehead.

I like the way he looks at me. I love to put my arms around where his neck SHOULD be. Its not all seriousness with him. But its not all nonsense either. I can feel myself wanting to be the woman for him. I think the creases around his eyes when he smiles are sexy and beautiful. Bulldogge's shoulders are quite possibly the most amazing thing ever.

Okay, so it's not all about his physical beauty....IB treats me really well. He is respectful and kind to me. Being with him doesn't make me feel uneasy or unsure. It doesn't bore me or make me think about being anywhere else. And yes, friends, I do mean ANYWHERE. Its as if those other things that have been filling my mind have lost their color and flavor. Right now with him is the only place I want to be. My Irish Bulldogge makes me feel cherished and cared for and safe.

Hey, wait a second, isn't that what I have been saying that I am looking for?

I am not scared. I'm looking forward to this next part of my life. I can see exciting changes ahead. Maybe I am wrong again and will end up heartbroken. But I am SO looking forward to the adventure.

An Angry Rant

I feel like I have spent a great deal of energy lately handling a large number of haters. Okay, its not a large number, its actually a really small number. Like one.

Marrian-Webster dictionary defines a coward as "one who shows disgraceful fear or timidity". And my hater lived up to that today. I am not going to call this person out specifically, but I know who they are.

I say all the time that my relationship with Fuzzy Face is convoluted and at times confusing. Its true. I am honest about it. I do not hide it ever or from anyone.

What happened today really set me off. How DARE you send my blog out ANONYMOUSLY to someone that I care about beyond belief? If I wanted to put it all out on blast I would have put it up on my Facebook for general consumption. Granted, my blog is out for the public to see, but if I want everyone I care about to read what's there I will put it up on my Facebook page.

The person that you decided so desperately needed to see what I had put on my blog? You really hurt him. Even more than you hurt me. Not only that, he really matters to me...A LOT. I care about his feelings and thoughts which is why he chooses to not read my damn blog in the first place!!

IB is a good man. A sensitive man. The kind of guy you want to be out on the town with as a woman. He is masculine and smells good and is affectionate and bawdy and built like a brick shit house. He doesn't hold back for a second.

And you know what? He genuinely likes me. Not just horny or bored or lonely.

Did you succeed in blowing my life apart today? No. I hope it makes you warm and fuzzy inside to know that you hurt an innocent person.

And yes, you are a coward. If it had been Fuzzy Face or any of the other pelicans they would have PROUDLY had their name attached to it. They would want me to know that they had set about imploding my life. That's what men do, take ownership of their actions and stand behind them.

I hope that you decide to subscribe and try to discredit me. Do it. Flip the script on me. For real. Keep sending my blog out to people that choose not to read it. You will piss the wrong person off and it won't be pretty.

Not Sure What to Believe

"I love you, Babyz"...."Do you love me?"...."Very much"....

And so begins some confusion on my part. I'm not sure if I believe it. I do not doubt that he meant it at the minute he said it. I know better than to push the issue, so I let it go for the weekend.

Sometimes I worry that he says things based in what I want to hear and what will keep me close rather than what he actually feels. Like in December it was that I wanted to have some sort of commitment so he asked me to be his girlfriend. A month later it was over when he wanted something different for a few days. Now he KNOWS that the only way to keep me is to say he loves me. I wonder how long that will last.

Please don't misunderstand me...I trust this man implicitly as my friend. He would most likely do anything in the world for me, for real. He is like my family. Why don't I trust him the same way with my heart?

The way he broke up with me hurt me so badly. I felt like I had never really mattered to him at all past some action. I realize my own fault in that whole issue, but he could have taken it a little easier on me or at least called me rather than text message me? I was really really in love with the man. How could he just turn that down?

This new development is bringing up a lot of conflicting feelings for me. I don't know whether to trust what he says or continue to doubt him. I want so very badly to be precious to him. I truly want to be the one that he picks for his own. No, this does NOT make me needy or smothering or any of those things.

So there it is. I don't feel I can trust what he says a lot of the time. I feel like he WANTS it to be true. He is a good guy and a great friend to me. How can I learn to trust what he says to me? I did once upon a time. I'm not sure if I can right now.

Game Changer

I have in the past made reference to The Great White Buffalo. A man that should have married me a hundred years ago but didn't. Well, that was his loss, not mine. I did something that would have even a year ago seemed unthinkable. I cut him loose today.

It was simple, clean and to the point. I told him that while I care for him I want a great deal more out of life and love than the occasional Chinese dinner and sex. I wouldn't even call it "making love" anymore. He doesn't love me and I should have realized it the day he stopped kissing me.

Seriously? I want so much more than that! I am WORTH so much more than that. If I hold every other man to a much higher standard, why not him too?? If love, devotion, and emotional connection is what I desire, then isn't it what I deserve? I get that the last 10+ years of our friendship has been, "Hey, do you wanna have sex?". "Sure!!". Stupid girl! It left me so much more lonely than I had been before hand.

I am continuously searching for the right person based on what I KNOW my personal search criteria are, so why would I let someone who so clearly falls outside of those expectations access to the most human, vulnerable part of me? My only explanation is that I have been so far removed from the idea of my own value and inner self for so long that I was just doing what felt good at the risk of my own well being. When I say it like that it makes me almost feel sorry for myself!

Clearly, even through my own eyes I have started choosing to accept nothing less than I need from the other people in my life. If it is Son, BMD, the Tiger, Fuzzy Face, or the Irish Bulldogge it doesn't matter. A few months ago it would have been very different. I would have accepted whatever they had to offer. Even the smallest scrap of attention would have made me felt like Queen for a Day!

So, I am changing. I am becoming healthier. It is starting to feel like second nature to make better choices. I am learning my own value and trusting my own gut. It seems like something so simple but for me it is fairly profound.

Goddamn Pain!!

Let's talk about my least favorite thing in the whole wide world, shall we? I fucking hate and I do mean HATE my chronic pain. It feels like it is eating me from the inside out sometimes. It makes me want to become some kind of pill popping junkie. Pain makes me think I am becoming crazy, because no one should remain alive like this unless they are passing a kidney stone or a baby.

Tonight I am working and it feels like I am battling for my life, sanity, and nursing license just to remain upright and functioning. Every muscle fiber in my body is on fire and I have nothing to douse the flames with. My coping skills are becoming overwhelmed and soon my only option will be wretching my guts out. When that happens, even my own body has no idea what to do with itself.

It is taking so much of my concentration to not panic and start to cry. Bawling is imminent. I am so sweaty and my heart is racing and I'm nauseated and I can't get my thoughts under control....and it's all driven by this unrelenting pain that I cannot escape. I want to run from it, but where??? Really, where ever I go the pain will still be there like an annoying relative.

I refuse to be the person that asks, "Why me, God?!!". I'm more of the, "Thank you for not giving this to someone that I love." kind of person. I can deal. I am tough. There is no way I could watch someone else go through this. I just wish there was some sort of escape or panic button I could hit when this happens.

How will I survive this night? I'm not sure yet. I want to be home, tucked safely in my bed, knocked out with anything that will ease my pain. In my perfect world I would wake up with a handsome stocky man there with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a kiss for me. Yet another deem at this point I guess. But the thought does help me feel better.

Cast of Characters

What a lot of people don't know is that I take quite a bit of heat over my blog. I get text messages, emails, Facebook messages, you name it. I have in the past chosen to respond on occasion to my lovers and haters when I feel it was needed, and tonight happens to be one of those nights.

Yesterday's hate mail included the following, "You need to grow up and drop the code names and nicknames. On your blog you say you are a woman in your 30s going through your 20s but that is only because you refuse to grow up."

I want to respond in a mature way to this, but seeing as how I don't know how to do that, according to this disgruntled reader, I will explain it the best way I know how. I say that I am going through my 20's in my 30's because I feel like I went straight from high school to being 35 or 40. I have always been someone's mother or someone's wife and never got to take the time to figure out who I am. Now I have the opportunity to do those things for myself that so many people take for granted.

On the subject of code names and nicknames: I do it NOT to spare anyone's feelings. Everyone knows who everyone else is. And if a person does find themselves in my blog and doesn't know who anyone else is or what the current nature of my relationship is with them, they generally ask. I think I do it so that if a person (think potential dates or employers) were to Goggle someone mentioned in my blog their name, dating antics, my emotions, and whether or not I think they fall into the pelican category remains out of it.

As a one time only special, here is a breakdown of the most written about people in my blog:

The Tiger. He is my father and his real name is Bob. He is wonderful and I love him.

Son. He is my son and his real name is Brian. We struggle a lot with our relationship, but overall it is good.

BMD. She is Brian's girlfriend and her real name is Dinah. BMD stands for "Beautiful Miss Dinah" because she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen

Fuzzy Face. We all have come to love him and hate him. He is what he is and his real name is Mitch. Our relationship is confusing at best. However, it is healthy and very honest. Too honest sometimes. If I needed to bury a body or drunken sweaty meaningless sex he is the FIRST person I would call.

The Right Wing King. He is my ex-husband and Brian's father. His name is Eric and he will be a part of my life for the rest of my life. We remain friends somewhat and aren't trying to kill each other anymore.

Hot Wheels. Does everyone remember him? His name is Todd and I had what basically amounted to an emotional affair with him. He is fan-freaking-tastic and I have lost touch with him. Bad choice on my part, I miss him sometimes.

Wolverine. I dated him for a few weeks and his name is Josh. However he and I talked via text for months before going out on an actual date. The pelicans had a field day with him and it ended somewhat badly.

Irish Bulldogge. We have had the official first date and his name is Todd (not to be confused with the Hot Wheels Todd). He, unlike everyone else, figured out right away who he was when he made his first appearance the other day (LOVE IT!!). When he texts he sounds like a caveman and I find him wildly charming. Rock solid.

The Pelicans. The term has come to represent in my mind at least, those who want to detract from what I have going on in my life. Well, maybe not detract. More like offer opinions when I don't want to hear them. They are usually right and that is why I have such disdain for them.

Enjoy seeing everyone's names this one time, because I am sticking with my code name/nickname system. I find it way more fun to use. They offer insight into people's true identities and personalities I think.

And that is why I am The Fat Girl. Its about so much more than my weight. Its about my insecurities and secrets. Its who hides the real me with all those layers of bigness. Its how I protect myself even now, from the rest of my life.

On Being Courted

I have been doing my fair share of dating since my divorce. There are those you all know about and a couple that you don't. The only one of any impact up to this point has been Fuzzy Face. He woke up a lot of feelings that have lain dormant for a long long time. While that has been overall really great, our motivations are still pretty different.

I feel like I need to hold out for someone who is perfect for me. They don't need to actually be perfect, just right for me. Funny, smart, good looking, goofy, strong, and honestly: a little redneck-ish. I like a man that's manly and can handle me as I am. Someone that looks at me and thinks that I am the best thing ever and really believes that.

Currently I am being courted, yes courted!, by someone I have known since I was a girl and Son was a baby. We recently reconnected on Facebook and now he is courting me. It's different than I am used to. I am not quite sure about all this coffee and conversation. I keep waiting for some kind of flip in the script and he turns into a giant egotistical prick. He talks to me and listens (at least it looks that way) to what I have to say. He texts me good morning and good night. It's super sweet.

Okay pelicans, just so we are clear, this guy is not like the Wolverine. He's the kind of guy who would smash you in the mouth first an ask questions later. The Irish Bulldogge is your kind of guy. Works super hard, lifts weights, likes to f*** (per his report) and fight. He's right up my alley. We haven't been on an "official" date yet, just hanging out at the gym and then having coffee before I go to work. Lots of talking. And he makes me laugh.

I am hoping that I am getting past that unrealistic hope that each new beau is "the one". I also want to stop trying to be what the person I am dating wants versus being myself. So I'm loud and obnoxious and a little naughty. I'm also sensitive and kind and loving. I am a pretty cool chick all in all. I would date me, I'm sexy.

It turns out that I like this being courted stuff. It makes me feel fantastic and like sex isn't the only thing this dude wants. I am pretty sure that lovin' will be on the table at some point (because seriously, it's important to me). I am enjoying the talking and flirting and attention. The man smelling my neck when he hugs me gives me goose bumps.

This Irish Bulldogge could give Fuzzy Face a run for his money. But on the other hand it may just further drive home the point that I just need to accept the fact that my heart belongs to Fuzzy. We will have to wait and see.

An Actual Poem

Today is one of those days
Longing to be next to you
Feeling the warmth of your hand on the small of my back
Listening to the rise and fall of your breath on the pillow next to me

Today is one of those days
When wanting you makes it hard to breathe
To have you take me where only you can
And how desire rules my thoughts for hours

Today is one of those days
That hearing your laugh seems like it would make my life
Watching you shimmy into your shirt would warm my soul
Having you crack me in the ass in public seems like the most natural thing

Today is one of those days
That makes me feel like you are as right for me as scrubs and running shoes
That has me thinking of places I want to share with you
That drives me to distraction thinking sweet silly thoughts about you

Today is one of those days
It's one of my some days
A day that is all yours
One that only you understand the reason for